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The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. “I wonder,” said Ramage, “that more girls don’t think as you do and want to strike out in the world. The ceiling had, in many places, given way; the laths had been removed; and, where any plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. ‘Me, I am tout à fait stupide. You cannot possibly leave me here alone with Gerald. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth.
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